


What Hurts the Most

by xoUselessLesbianxo



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Forbidden Love, Heartbreak, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Requited Love, Song Lyrics, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoUselessLesbianxo/pseuds/xoUselessLesbianxo
Summary: Arthur and John's brotherly bond turns into something greater, until it's nothing but heartache.Sad/unhappy ending-please be warnedSong Fic using the song 'What Hurts the Most' by Rascal Flatts





	What Hurts the Most

** What Hurts the Most **

****

Arthur didn’t know or understand how it had all come to this. They were brother’s, had been from the very start when Hosea had caught the boy no more than fifteen stealing a lady’s purse. From that point on the older man had taken the boy under his wing, teaching him how to shoot and to hunt. Survival skills that god forbid he end up on his own again, at least this time he’ll know how to live on his own. Arthur left the reading and writing to Hosea and Dutch.  
  
_What hurts the most  
Was being so close_

Arthur suggested a hunting trip a few years later, John now a man of 18 years. Of course, their father figures agreed, knowing that actually being out in the wild would do them good, would strengthen their bond as brothers. Little did any of them know it would extend further than that.

Arthur set up the tent while John prepared the fire, little more than grunts exchanged. It was familiar work, and both seemed to work well in tandem as a team. Once the work was done and with their bellies full, the two lounged around the fire, their backs resting against a log.

Arthur’s journal sat resting in his lap as John whittled away at a piece of wood, a new craft he was trying out although admittedly wasn’t very good at. “Here.” Arthur’s gruff voice came, reaching out for the knife and wood in his hands. He patiently showed John how to do it correctly, and before long the shapeless piece of wood would become recognizable.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” John asked as he set aside his project for the night, Arthur’s head lifting from the drawing he was currently working on in his journal. “Stayed behind a hotel for a time before Dutch and Hosea picked me up, said I might make money off it one day to get me off the streets. Dutch found me first before I could be any good at it.”

John seemed to stare at the older man for quite some time, hanging onto any information he could about the quiet and sullen brute of a man. John shook his head in embarrassment before mumbling something about going to bed, his cheeks still red as he slipped into his bedroll.

_And having so much to say  
And watching you walk away_

From that point on their bond strengthened, both trusting one another to carry out jobs such as stagecoach and train robbery’s. John was always by Arthur’s side, always one to volunteer to help him out with a job. Arthur wouldn’t have it any other way and valued his time with the younger man.

Another few years passed until their brotherly bond shifted into something more, something that seemed to fill both of their hearts with so much love and admiration for the other. Arthur pushed it to the back his mind every time he caught himself staring for a little too long, particularly when it was laundry day and John tended to treat this as an excuse to wander around camp in nothing but trousers. It was wrong, absolutely and incredibly wrong to feel that way for someone who was like a brother let alone another man. Men were hung if caught committing such a crime.

So, Arthur hid his feelings well, continuing to tell himself it was completely unnatural. John on the other hand was not so good at hiding it.

_And never knowing  
What could have been_

John’s hunting, shooting and wood carving skills had become quite good over the years and as he sat under a tree with the knife and piece of wood in hand he caught sight of Arthur strutting across the field towards the chopping block. John stared from under his long bangs, Arthur’s bulky muscles flexing and straining as he brought the ax down heavily on the large chunks of wood.

In no time at all beads of sweat began to trail down the older man’s face and down his chest, apparently having decided it was too hot for a shirt. John absentmindedly licked his lips as he stared at the man before him, shifting slightly against the tree to adjust himself in his pants. He shouldn’t have this affect on him, they were brothers. So why did John have the strong urge to lick the beads of sweat from Arthur’s skin and beyond?

Arthur swiped at the dampness on his forehead with the back of his hand, his line of sight moving towards John who quickly returned his attention back to the knife, his cheeks once again turning red.

If only the younger man knew just how much he enjoyed John’s gaze on his body.

_And not seeing that loving you  
Is what I was tryin’ to do_

Two days later it was Arthur’s turn to take watch and with his favourite rifle slung loosely over his shoulder he ventured out into the dark to a spot not too far from camp. He chose a decent tree to lean against, knowing that familiar ache of standing for hours on end would be present by the end of the night.

Rustling of trees sounded to his left and Arthur aimed his gun in its direction before a familiar face came into view. “Don’t shoot, it’s only me.” Came John’s voice as he approached, his hands held up in surrender.

Arthur lowered his gun upon realising who it was, his heart inexplicably pounding in his chest. John was close now, too close, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to step away.

 _Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret_  
_But I know if I could do it over_  
_I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart_  
_That I left unspoken_

“What do yer want Marston?” Arthur grumbled, tearing his eyes from the younger boy to busy himself with staring out into the darkness. John was distracting, far too distracting. Arthur had been avoiding him for quite some time for that very reason, but now they were alone and far enough away from camp not to be heard. That thought alone caused Arthur to swallow thickly as his heart continued to race.

John’s brown eyes flashed with determination and want, clearly mustering up all the courage he possibly could. “You.” The younger brazenly stated as he closed the distance between them and their lips met for the first time.

Arthur stumbled back slightly as he was taken aback by the sudden action, but soon all the worry and doubt and his thoughts of _wrongness_ seemed to fade away. John deepened the kiss hungrily, his tongue swiping at the older man’s bottom lip. Arthur leaned into John, apparently recovering from his moment of surprise.

How could something so wrong feel so _right_?  
  
_What hurts the most_  
_Is being so close_  
_And having so much to say (much to say)_  
_And watching you walk away_

Arthur wanted to give in then and there, he wanted to grab him by the hips and take him up against the tree. He wanted to sink his teeth into John’s shoulder and breath in everything that was _him_. He knew that was what John wanted too, as a muffled moan escaped from deep within his throat and his need present in his trousers when his body involuntarily pressed against Arthur’s leg.

Arthur pulled away first, his breathing heavy as he turned his head away to hide the want and lust within his eyes. “Look at me. Please.” The sound of John’s voice alone made him want to give in, the need and desire lacing every word.

It took everything in him to step away, to put some space between him and the younger man. This was wrong, so damn wrong. But his body was betraying him as he resisted the urge to fix himself, not wanting to draw John’s attention to the bulge in his pants.

John made a move to step forward but with a growl as threatening and angry as he could muster Arthur shoved him away. “We _can’t_!” He exclaimed furiously, the rage coming from that part of his mind that told him this was wrong. That he was a pervert and a disgusting excuse of a man. After all what man lusted and desired another man like this?

“This is _wrong_!”

 _And never knowing_  
What could have been  
_And not seeing that loving you_  
_Is what I was trying to do, oh._

Hurt flashed within John’s muddy brown eyes, this time not making a move to touch Arthur. He wished the older man would look at him, give him anything to say it wasn’t true. “I want this Arthur. Please.” The tone of John’s voice almost broke him, he never wanted to hurt him. But he knew he must hurt him to convince him to move on. To find a woman and settle down.

“We can’t do this John. This, this can never happen. Not now, not ever.” Every word hurt to say, and every word cut them both so raw and so deeply. ‘ _But I love you.’_ Both thought at once, two hearts shattering into a million tiny pieces.

 _‘I can’t do that to you John. I can’t watch you die because of us. This is for the best.’_ Arthur thought internally, willing to keep the tears at bay. He was successful, he was always successful when it came to hiding emotions.

_What hurts the most  
Was being so close_

“Don’t do this Arthur. I know you want this too. Just tell me, tell me you feel the same way. If you don’t and I imagined all of this, I’ll walk away now.” The words caught in John’s throat, willing for Arthur to admit just once that what they had was real. Arthur knew what he had to do, what he had _force_ himself to do. If he didn’t he could put John’s and his own life at risk for going down this path. A path he wouldn’t allow.

Arthur took a deep steadying breath, detaching himself from his feelings because he knew it was the only way he could say what he was about to say. Speak words that were an outright lie and say them with a cold hardened face.

“I don’t feel anything for you Marston. You’re perverted for imaginin’ this little fantasy and it stops _now._ I don’t know what you were hopin’ but I like women. I like bein’ with women and that will never change. Not for you. Not ever” Arthur’s hands balled into fists as he practically spat the words, putting as much venom he could behind them. He needed to believe them to be convincing and it worked.

Tears formed in Arthur’s eyes as he watched John walk away.

 _And having so much to say (to say)_  
And watching you walk away  
_And never knowing_  
_What could have been_

Arthur met Mary not too long after crushing both John’s and his own heart into a million tiny pieces. She was smart, gentle and had a heart of gold which Arthur promised to treasure. Even if his own would never fully heal.

Arthur brought Mary into camp after telling her his lifestyle and she seemed to accept it, even if it was not a lifestyle she saw herself living. Mary meshed in well with the gang, everyone polite and welcoming. They had all been beginning to think Arthur may never meet someone to settle down with.

Arthur risked a glance towards John who was sitting at the Poker table, bottle of whiskey in his hand. Green eyes met brown and Arthur tried not to flinch away, realising that his hand rested on the small of Mary’s back as she spoke with Mary-Beth. The two continued to stare at one another, eyes locked as the pain behind John’s eyes showed. Arthur couldn’t take it anymore, he had to look away.

_And not seeing that loving you  
Is what I was trying to do_

John downed the last of the second bottle of whiskey for that night, the other’s celebrating the success of a bank robbery. But he wasn’t celebrating, he couldn’t bring himself to. The alcohol numbed his pain, dulled the ache in his heart for the man he couldn’t have. But only for a little while.

John threw the empty bottle to the ground and went towards his tent, the bedroll currently laying under the canvas seeming very appetizing. His footsteps faltered as he watched Arthur lead Mary by the hand towards his tent, Mary giggling like a school girl as he whispered something in her ear. Mary entered first and Arthur reached up to pull the tent flap closed, but as he turned his eyes once again locked with John’s.

In his hazy drunken state John wanted to rush towards the older man and crash his lips against Arthur’s. His feet even stepped forward without his say so but was only stopped as Arthur pulled the door shut, leaving John to stare at the tent in heartbreak.

Arthur didn’t want him, would never want him.

If only John knew how wrong he was.

_Not seeing that loving you  
That’s what I was trying to do_

**Author's Note:**

> My god this was so hard to write. I’m in a dark place at the moment and this idea popped into my head which begged to be written.  
> As a lesbian I found it a little tricky to write and describe men, particularly because I don’t know what its like to ‘swoon’ after one. And trying to describe how attractive John and Arthur found each other was definitely a challenge.  
> Thank you all for reading, and my apologies for ripping your hearts out.  
> ~xoUselessLesbianxo~


End file.
